


What if...?

by my1alias



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my1alias/pseuds/my1alias
Summary: Based on the idea that Agnes didn’t warn them and they didn’t change places after Armageddidn’t.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 720





	What if...?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my husband for betaing and being supportive.  
> Thank you to my children for letting me write (although most of this was written on my phone while I nursed my 5mo).  
> Thank you to the other Good Omens content creators who are incredible and helped break my long no-writing streak. You don't know who you are, but it's everyone who I have read over the past half year. You're amazing. I'm so impressed.
> 
> Unintentionally similar to [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610453/chapters/51530329)

They didn't see them coming.

Crowley had invited Aziraphale to rest at his place the evening after Armageddidn’t. They had discussed the impending fallout from Heaven and Hell into the wee sma's, but hadn't gotten any closer to a solution than before. The Sunday morning had dawned bright and beautiful, and Aziraphale had suggested St James and ice cream.

They had met there multiple times before. Surely they'd be as safe there as anywhere else. It's not as if Crowley's flat was unknown by the demons. Their previous sides would need time to come up with a plan and regroup.

_ It was wishful thinking, I suppose,  _ thought Crowley, in the brief conscious moments he had after watching his angel be dragged away.

He blinked hard, his eyes scratchy with unshed tears.  _ Aziraphale will be fine, _ he told himself as he was led deeper into Hell.  _ A slap on the wrist, perhaps. A mountain of paperwork. Refusal of his return to Earth. _

He shuddered to think of his own fate. An eternity in the darkest pit, most likely. An eternity away from his angel. He regretted the loss of his sunglasses. They hid more than just his eyes from the curious demons who lined the hallways.

He finally arrived in an amphitheatre where Beelzebub, Hastur, and Dagon waited with thinly-veiled patience. A large dirty bathtub was standing in front of a large picture window for the viewing pleasure of the demonic hoard.

"A little King Louis the fourteenth, isn't it?" Crowley asked rhetorically. He didn't expect an answer and wasn't disappointed.

"Demon Crowley," buzzed Beelzebub with a bored tone of voice. "You have been charged with the murder of a fellow demon, conzorting with an angel, plotting to stop Armageddon, and generally going againzt all Hell. How do you plead?"

"Guilty!" snarled Dagon.

"Oh well, I'm sure we can come to an agreement about this." Crowley smirked. "A demon's gotta do what a demon's gotta do, right? Rebel against the bureaucracy, and all that rot?"

"You  _ killed _ Ligur!" screamed Hastur. His eyes were wilder than usual. "I demand that he pay in kind!" he shouted at Beelzebub.

Crowley sucked in a breath at the feel of an angelic presence. He turned to see Michael, bearing a decanter that glowed with a holy light. "You came prepared, eh?" He nodded in sad acceptance. "Say, Michael, can you deliver a message to Aziraphale when he's done with his punishment?"

Michael looked at him, expression neutral. "His punishment will be as final as yours."

"No," breathed Crowley, eyes wide in shock. "NO!" he shouted, heart in his throat. "You can't kill the  _ one _ decent angel in Heaven! You can't…" He sank to his knees unthinkingly.  _ Mother, his only crime is loving your children too much. Why are you punishing him for stopping the mass murder of everyone on Earth? Please, please save him! _

"Get up," snarled Hastur, wrenching him to his feet. "It's time for you to no longer exist."

"Any lazt wordzz?" asked Beelzebub detachedly.

_ Zir had been watching too many law shows on TV, _ thought Crowley, distracted.  _ What good would last words do if he couldn't say them to the one he lo- _ .

His eyes widened. "I love him," he whispered, dazed.

"What was that?" asked Michael, turning back from the hallway.

Crowley blinked and shook himself, coming to a decision. "This is my testament!" He flung off his jacket and toed off his shoes. "I give myself willingly, and my sacrifice will protect the one I love most dear in this world and the next. Angel, I hope you can hear this, somehow." He cupped his hands around his mouth, tipping his head back to yell at the ceiling. "AZIRAPHALE, I LOVE YOU!"

"Right, that's enough," sneered Dagon. "No demon can love." They shoved Crowley towards Hastur, who propelled him closer to the tub.

Michael, who had been staring at Crowley intently during this surprising declaration, blinked. "Wait…" she started.

Nobody heard her over the chanting of the demons behind the glass.

"See you never," snarled Hastur. "Get in the tub."

"I already said I would. Weren't you listening?" Crowley sniffed condescendingly and shrugged. "Why would you start now?" He turned his back to the tub and sat on the edge. "For Aziraphale," he whispered, closed his eyes, and slid into the holiest of waters.

"No!" gasped Michael, shocked.

~*~ ~*~

Aziraphale took a step away from the chair he had been bound to. He felt a shiver of love in his soul, and straightened his shoulders. "If Crowley is destroyed, there's nothing left for me here anyways. He's a better person than all of us. More deserving of love and mercy than I am, certainly. You know," he continued conversationally, "he was the one who convinced me to stop Armageddon? He cares more about the humans than any of you. If I could offer him any protection from holy water, I would." He brightened and murmured to the floor, "Crowley, my dearest, I give you my love. May it protect you in your time of need. Look after the humans for both of us."

"Just shut up and die already," snarked Gabriel, gesturing to the column of Hellfire in the centre of the sterile white room.

Aziraphale calmly took a deep breath and stepped into the fire.

~*~ ~*~

Crowley laughed in relief as he splashed in the tub. “You sure this is holy water, Michael?”

Michael nodded faintly.

Crowley flicked it at the glass separating the demons from him. They shrieked and backed away.

“NO!” screamed Hastur. “I want him punished! He murdered Ligur in front of me!”

“I could get rid of you as well,” offered Crowley with a malicious grin, cupping his hands in the water. “You just need to come a little closer.”

“How izz thiz pozzible?” demanded Beelzebub quietly, sidling up to Michael. “He iz a demon. I can zee hizz demonic zoul. Why izz the holy water not affecting him?”

Michael squinted at Crowley, splashing happily in the water. “He is...surrounded by love. It’s the most powerful I’ve ever seen.” She put a hand over her heart. “It’s beautiful.”

Beelzebub wrinkled zir nose. “Zo we can’t kill him with holy water. We will need to think about thiz.”

Michael nodded solemnly. “It wouldn’t surprise me if upstairs was having the same problem with the angel.”

A look of surprise crossed zir’s face. “A demon can’t love!” ze scoffed. “He can’t give hiz protection to the angel.”

“I can sense love.” Michael looked down haughtily at zir. “He does.”

“Hmm,” Beelzebub was thoughtful. Ze turned back to the others. “Get him out of there!” ze shouted.

No demon came forward to help Crowley out of the bath.

Ze rolled zir eyes and looked up at Michael. “Would you  _ pleaze _ ,” ze looked like zir teeth hurt, “remove the holy water from Hell?”

Michael snapped and the decanter she was holding was filled to the brim. She nodded at Beelzebub, who had hastily stepped away from the water, and left the amphitheatre.

Crowley sighed. “I guess bath time’s over, huh?” He got clumsily to his socked feet, completely dry. “A demon who isn’t harmed by holy water. You gotta wonder - what else could he do?” He grinned a little too wide and let his fangs show. “We’ll be left alone now, yeah?”

Beelzebub nodded reluctantly.

“Demon’s honour?” Crowley snapped, drawing up a contract. “Aziraphale and I cannot be hurt by any action caused by any denizen of Hell. Physically, emotionally, mentally, metaphysically, celestially, occultly, you name it, it’s on here. We are to be left alone.”

“Yezz, fine.” Beelzebub snatched a fly out of the air buzzing around zir head and pressed it to the bottom of the contract. It left a scorched burn mark of zir’s signature.

Crowley rolled up the contract and tucked it under his arms. A snap, and his shoes and jacket were back on his body. “Won’t be seeing you. Can’t say it was a pleasure. Ciao!” He waved over his shoulder as he sauntered towards the elevator.

~*~ ~*~

Aziraphale stared down at his non-burning body and flexed his fingers. He looked at the archangels, who were staring in shock, and grinned. He could feel the protective layer of love surrounding his body, preventing the Hellfire from burning him.  _ Darling boy, _ he thought fondly before cracking his neck.

He stepped out of the fire, keeping it around him like a cloak. “Have I served my punishment then?” he asked Gabriel.

Gabriel took a step back, away from the flames dripping off the Principality, his face white with fear.

Aziraphale manifested his holy sword and held it battle-ready. “I asked you a question, Gabriel. Do not make me ask it again.”

“Yes,” whimpered Gabriel.

“We will be left alone now?” Aziraphale took two more steps forwards, fire rippling over the floor in his wake.

“Yes, yes! Just go away!” Gabriel whined.

“Legion!” Aziraphale called. “Please do be a dear and tidy up this Hellfire? I don’t seem to be hurt by it, but I don’t particularly want to control it.”

The Legion demon quaked as he scooped the Hellfire back into its protective container, chasing some of the more errant flames that had rolled off Aziraphale’s corporation.

“An angel who is protected from Hellfire. Interesting.” Aziraphale sheathed his sword and turned towards the elevator back to Earth. ”I hope I won’t see you any time soon. Ta!”

**Author's Note:**

> Art I commissioned for this fic by the incomparable [Talhi](https://wheeloffortune-design.tumblr.com): [art](https://wheeloffortune-design.tumblr.com/post/614255956615921664/edhelwen1-requested-a-scene-from-their-fic-that)


End file.
